this world and your own

How authors like Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Elizabeth Gaskell, and many others have inspired girls like me to dig deeper into our imaginations to invent some of the coolest guys ever.

People may find it rather lonely and introverted to be so much kept to ones self that a girl is at last obliged to make beautifully flawed heroes up in her head, but honestly? I can't imagine life without my characters.

Especially the characters I've created and fallen slightly head over heels for. They sort of ruin your life, for better and worse. Kind of at the same time, too.

Very few men I've met can compare with the infinite awesomeness of the shy, geeky, sweet, quirky, entirely handsome guys I've dreamed up, designed and scribbled into existence. It's a dangerous business you know, making men up. It may forever ruin your chances of getting married to a real life guy.

But then there is that certain, secret ecstasy that glimmers every once in a great while, when you actually meet someone who has in him so much of your character that it's almost startling. The rarity of this phenomenon is entirely beyond explanation.

Writers, it's true, usually lead what seems like very quiet, shy lives. But within that shyness and reservation is a burning creativity in it's sweetest vintage. An imagination of dangerous, startling proportions. We don't belong only to this world, but to many others. Ones that only we ourselves have entered. And just because we haven't yet fallen in love here in this world doesn't mean we haven't in others.

A writer is really just a multi-realmist. Someone who, like quantum physics suggests of the atom, is constantly flickering in and out of different slices of reality. Our heart beats both here and there, and we are bound to our characters and our world as someone in love is tied to that one significant heart.

To see a landscape, to taste an atmosphere, to lock your gaze into a pair of eyes that have within them bits of your country and story and heart is to experience pure, unabridged bliss. Wonder in it's wildest form.

Because for an instant the veil between this world and your own has been ever so slightly torn, and something of your heart has bled through to physical existence.

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